


Bullpens, Badges, and Buckets

by LumenInFusco



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Handcuffs, Police Uniforms, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumenInFusco/pseuds/LumenInFusco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Terezi's Wriggling Day, but Vriska's gift seems....oddly inappropriate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullpens, Badges, and Buckets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inklesspen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inklesspen/gifts).



“Are you fucking kidding me, Vriska?”

Some Wriggling Day this has turned out to be.

You knew that today was off to a rough start when the captain singled you out in the bullpen, reminding the entire precinct how long it’s been since your last solve. While you did verbally dress him down for his own botched casework last week, the incident still put a sour note on the day. From there, things just kept spiraling downhill. The last lead you had on the string of B&E’s dried up, leaving you sitting on your hands until something else turns up. The witness you interviewed for the assault with a deadly weapon turned out to be a bust. A power outage forced the computer system into a hard reset, locking you and every other detective out of your case files and forcing you to work by hand for an hour. And to top it off, your partner called in sick, so you couldn’t even distract yourself with some light field duty.

And now, as if everything else wasn’t enough, you come home to find that the ‘special surprise’ that Vriska’s been blowing up your phone about all day is an exotic dancer.

“Whaaaaaaaat?” she asks incredulously.

In response, you give her arm a frim drubbing with your cane.

She cradles her arm where you struck her. “…Oh. Right. You know, the way you move so effortlessly through your day to day life, sometimes I just completely forget that you’re blind in the first place! I mean, if you really think about it, it’s actually a compliment, so you should really be thanking me!”

You cross your arms.

The stripper shifts her weight and pops her gum. “So, like, are we doing this thing, or what?”

“Oh yeah, we’re doing this thing!” Vriska tells her. She turns her attention back at you. “Here, I’ll tell you what. You sit down, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be right beside you, telling you exactly what’s happening, so you won’t miss a thing! How does that sound?”

“Asinine,” you say.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that!” She sits you down on the couch, and you hear her signal to the dancer to begin her routine. “She came highly recommended. The least we can do is give her a chance!”

“Fine,” you relent. “But don’t think you’re not gonna pay for this later.”

“Is that a promise?”

“We’ll see.”

The smell of artificial smoke begins to fill the room, along with thumping percussion as her music begins to play.

_God money I’ll do anything for you_

_God money just tell me what you want me to_

_God money nail me up against the wall_

_God money don’t want everything he wants it all_

“Okay, she’s twisting her hips right now,” says Vriska. “We’re getting a good view of her ass. The skirt of her police uniform doesn’t reach past the crease.”

_No you can’t take it_

_No you can’t take it_

_No you can’t take that away from me_

“She’s riding her nightstick just under her ass cheeks now. I think she’s probably gonna slip it between her legs.”

_Head like a hole_

_Black as your soul_

_I’d rather die_

_Than give you control_

“Yup, right between her legs. She’s forcing the skirt to ride up even higher, and I can see her black thong underneath.”

If your eyes had pupils, you’d be rolling them right about now. This isn’t working at all.

“She’s turning around now to give us a view from the front. She’s unbuttoning the top of the uniform now.”

You decide that it might be time to become more directly involved. “Tell me about her tits,” you command firmly.

“I’ll have a better view when she gets that pesky bra out of the way,” Vriska responds.

You quickly turn to face her, and purse your lips. “Vriska Serket. You will describe her boobs to me right now, or I’ll have you booked for obstruction of justice.”

She seems to respond to that. “Ooh, right away, officer.” She inhales. “Perky. And big. Her nipples are poking through the uniform, which is tight enough to give us some really amazing cleavage.” You feel her squirm a little in her seat. “She’s peeling the top off of her shoulders now. I can see more of her skin.” She takes a breath. “Oh, they are definitely real.”

For her part, the dancer doesn’t seem to be bothered at all at having her body and routine described this way. You deduce that in her line of work, she has likely encountered far stranger.

“How’s that for a description?” Vriska asks.

“I’m asking the questions, Punk.” Your use of the word ‘punk’ signifies a request on your part.

She smiles. “Whatever you say, Flatfoot.” And ‘flatfoot’ signifies acceptance of the request.

Maybe this Wriggling Day won’t be so bad after all.

In a quick motion, you take Vriska by the wrist and twist both her and yourself off the couch you had been sitting on. She gasps in delight as she’s pinned face down to the ground.

“You’re in a lot of trouble, Miss Serket. “I’ve got you on unlawful solicitation, conspiracy to impersonate an officer of the law, and of course…” you run your other hand along the side of her pant leg. “interfering with an investigation.” You produce a pair of handcuffs from your belt and slap them against her wrists.

Her mouth is agape as she turns to face you. “You got nothing, pig!”

You bring your face close to hers. “You want to add ‘failure to comply’ to the list?” You forcefully grab her chin and pull her lips into yours, aggressively biting down on her lower lip as she hums. You pull her body into a seated position and break off the kiss. You raise your right arm, open palm at the ready.

You break character for a second. “Check.”

Vriska is panting at this point, and smiles wickedly, licking her lower lip and nodding vigorously. “Green,” she answers. “Ohh, greener than Kanaya’s panties every time she—“

CRACK!!

You silently grit your teeth as your hand throbs from the impact against the side of her face. “Don’t you dare bring another troll into this. You’re in enough trouble already.”

Vriska’s breathing has gotten even heavier, drowning out the dancer’s music in the background.  She lifts her head back up. “And just what are you gonna do to me, officer?”

“I’m bringing you in for questioning.” You bring your hands to tug at the collar of her shirt. “But first, I’ll need to check for concealed weapons.”

“Just try it,” she growls defiantly.

With that, you grab the edges of her shirt and tear it open. Buttons fly everywhere and clatter as they bounce off the walls and floor. Underneath, you note that she’s wearing that lacy red bra you’ve always liked. You bring your face in to take in that delicious red scent. She squirms, grazing the sides of your face with the soft flesh of her rumblespheres.

“What are you hiding under there?” You pull back, bringing your hands up to the garment and pulling the cups away. She exhales and her breathing gets heavier as you bring your hands up to cup her breasts, feeling her nipples stiffen underneath your fingertips. You pinch them as you knead the flesh underneath, causing her to writhe even more. “Oh, ffuck…” she breathes.

You pull your hands back, and she squeaks in futile protest. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” you say. “In fact, I think we might need to do a cavity search. What do you think?”

She bites her lower lip and takes staggering breaths through her nose. “You got a warrant, officer?”

You raise your right arm again and deliver another hard slap across her face. The sound echoes through your modest home, and she squeals in ecstasy.

“Now then,” you say as you undo the button of her pants. “One way or another, we’re getting to the bottom of this.” You start to pull them down as she helpfully raises her hips. Her nook is giving off a strong fragrance, one that you would liken to a delicious blueberry pie. You prod at her labia with your fingertips, and she can’t help but twist and contort herself in agonizing anticipation for what’s coming. But you won’t give her release. Not yet.

“Beg for it,” you say, just above a whisper.

“Nnngh,” she groans. “F-fuck off, pig!”

“Beg for it,” you repeat, louder this time.

“Fuck you!” she responds in kind.

“Beg for it!” you say one final time.

She lets out a little scream. “FUCK ME!”

You thrust two fingers into her waiting nook. Inside, her tentacles involuntarily wrap around them, and you take their leave to massage them. Gently at first, then gradually building in intensity as her moans become louder. And just when you’re sure she can’t take any more, your thumb finds its way straight to her squealnub.

“Fuck!” she tries to shout, but it only comes out as a breathy sigh. “Fucking, fuck! Jegus, fuck, Terezi, fuck!”

You’ve done well. She’s barely articulate. You pull your hand away and start to lick it clean.

* * *

 

“….So, are we done here?”

The stripper’s voice interrupts the aftercare cuddling.

“What, you’re still here?” Vriska says.

“Well yeah. You only paid my advance deposit. I still need the rest.”

Vriska clumsily retrieves her pants and pulls a few bills out of the pockets. She unceremoniously slaps them into the dancer’s hands.

“Here. Should be a nice tip in there too.”

You say nothing, and only smile.

Best Wriggling Day ever.

end


End file.
